


For the Record

by fizzypunk



Category: Naruto
Genre: Descriptions of Panic, Gen, Post War, but it is not horribly graphic, descriptions of abuse in a court setting, i marked archive warnings for graphic description as a warning, positive outcome, semi-official prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26021602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzypunk/pseuds/fizzypunk
Summary: what happened in the hyuuga family trial during neji's testimony, and the following rulingcompanion piece to Hands in Full Revolt // stand-alone friendly
Relationships: Hyuuga Neji/Nara Shikamaru
Comments: 16
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hands in Full Revolt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25502584) by [fizzypunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzypunk/pseuds/fizzypunk). 



> i tried to incorporate this into hifr but, as i had originally intended not to greatly touch on scenes from the trial, and wrote them anyway, i thought this was good as a mini-prequel. i did not write super graphic content but he talks about hyuuga family punishments, and we all know that that's unpleasant.

\- Case 06-HYUUGA-001 -

“You want me to testify?”

Naruto nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he leaned against his desk. 

“Yes… Nothing about this is going to be secret anymore. No more closed doors, no more… secrecy...” 

Naruto was a good friend to have. His bright, sea-blue eyes were swimming with all the emotions he never learned to conceal. He was impassioned, and saddened, and determined, and it hurt him to ask such a thing of Neji knowing what it meant.

Neji nodded _yes,_ duty and the weight of every past generation compelling him to do so. He had to do it, no matter what that meant for him.

[the shinobi noble courts, act i]

He was too calm, and not in the way a small stream is, but in the fashion of a fish on bait, waiting for the moment the bite turns into barbs. He was too calm, and he _knew_ it would give away to...

_Something._

When asked about how he felt about testifying, or how he was _going_ to feel, Neji assumed it would be with calmness that he would carry himself, but he still anticipated to _feel_ uneasy or uncertain. He anticipated feeling antsy in the days leading up, on the day of. He anticipated a dull discomfort, however that may present itself.

But the morning arrived, and he dressed, and he ate with Shikamaru on his porch, and he felt bereft of… anything. As if in concentration, or deep meditation, but so much more empty of anything beside presence, and mindfulness to acknowledge the task at hand. There was a duty to fulfill, a goodness to the world that might help others in the way he'd never been helped, and that was something worth doing.

Maybe he felt pride? Maybe he felt detached, because, after all, this was so many years in the past, and he'd long since stopped dwelling on it. Life as it was was better than that, better than the memories he mostly ignores.

Yes, he felt removed from the entire thing -- that was the reason behind the emptiness, the stillness that made Shikamaru eye him a little oddly.

"Are you... okay?" He asked, finishing up the rice and veggies in his bowl that he supported in his crossed legs. Neji looked to him, to his non-work clothes that were thin for the growing heat under the sun, the way his eyes spoke louder than the three words he mouthed around a swallow of food...

"Yes, I'm okay."

He _was_. Shikamaru didn't press, but he didn't need to use his byakugan to know he didn't fully believe him. The normally more talk-filled morning was quickly reduced to silence, Shikamaru drinking a coffee in order to keep awake at 6 in the morning, and Neji resigned to contemplation over how still he truly was.

Yoshino kissed him goodbye on the cheek, and he wondered if her good wishes were even necessary. His heart was still, his mind was still, and he was still -- no pebble or stone could stir placid waters like his, but not a part of him could really hate it. It was a blessing -- an odd, unfamiliar blessing to grace his odd, unfamiliar day of testifying against the Hyuuga hierarchy.

He wanted that feeling of placidity back so badly at this moment, now that he’d just taken his seat beside the judge in his formal robes and piles of paper reports. His eyes snapped into focus, leaving behind it the calm detachment like it had never been there. He could hear his breath like the reverb of breathing hot against glass, and for a split second worried that everyone else could hear it, too.

The audience was small and he _knew_ they couldn’t hear him that intimately. 

_It’s impossible._

He stilled himself again, a solid hand on each knee beneath the table, and ignored the irrationality that tried to take root in his mind. Ignored the vast feeling of being watched. He had a job to do, it was _duty_.

It was overdue justice, and he had the honor dealing it -- why was his breath uneven? He'd been in war with less unnerved thoughts before, how was this possible?

_This is for myself, this is for Hinata, this is for father._

The lights above weren’t turned on, instead opting for the natural light of the row of windows to the left, and he knew why, though it was not necessary for him -- it was intended to, theoretically, put one at ease with the warm glow of the natural world. It was supposed to be a comfort before the past was gutted in front of a familial audience -- gutted for the written word to be forever filed away into government memory.

The court was a repurposed office from the Hokage’s wing, lit with natural light and arranged with seats lined in rows of three, pushed to the back of the room near the only door and separated by two tables set for the defense and for the accused.

Neji didn’t look at anyone in the room when he made his way to sit beside the judge, but he knew who was there. Shikamaru was in the closest row, and he was acutely aware of his presence, as so much of his life was made of it. He could identify that chakra in a heart beat. Beside him, Gai and Kakashi and Naruto and Sasuke. They were there, quiet, almost like at a funeral. That was the prevailing tone of the small room: no one felt comfortable talking or sighing or making noise, the audience as much as Neji.

They were there for support, but now it just felt… embarrassing. He didn’t tell them no, and now he regretted it, sitting there with hands pressed on knees, stuffy shoes too tight that begged him to tap the discomfort away, suddenly aware of all that it was he would have to say. Things he didn't tell Shikamaru, didn't tell anyone -- didn't, until recently, remember happening and once he did, felt like some hellish dream.

_Calm. Stay focused._

At the table closest to him was Hinata, seated next to her advisor Yui. Hinata wore her heart so appallingly on her sleeve, it was clear how hard this was on her. Her eyes were a deep well of regret, of pain, of guilt for ever having to ask Neji to do this. But where there was pain, there was also determination and strength.

Then came the rest of his family, and he’d ignored it till that moment. Eventually, however, he had to turn an eye to his grandfather Hiroto seated off to the side. He was at the defenses table, and looked at no one, not even Neji. Not the boy he especially hated, the boy he’d never even tried to hide his disgust over.

His eyes were so decidedly focused on the table in front of him, nodding in agreement to whatever it was his white-haired advisor was telling him, and _not_ looking in even the direction Neji was seated.

_You lose your nerve when the seals are gone, don’t you?_

Everything about a branch member was disgusting to that man, but everything about Neji was like a cattle prod to his deep-seated generational animosity. He’d fucking hated him, from day one, and Neji would never fully understand the depths of the _why_.

He’d once rubbed the sole of his boot into Neji’s forehead, fingers poised in the family seal, in the aftermath of the chunin exams. Sharing family business and not making rank was a whole new level of unacceptable for him, and he made sure Neji knew it down to the marrow. Neji had to wait a week before the bruises left him before he could even consider going back into training with Gai, being seen by them and narrowly avoiding questions yet again.

_Yet, here we are. Look at you now. You’re a coward. You can’t even face me._

He hadn’t seen Hiroto since the spring, and then a year before that. It wasn’t surprising that he sat there alone, with his advisor Shinzo. The elders were not there, awaiting the ruling in their elderly age somewhere else while Hiroto was there on their behalf. They were still on trial, present or not.

_Pathetic._

He didn’t hear himself being sworn in, but he felt his head movements, remembered the shape of his lips when he agreed to whatever it was the judge had said. It was static in memory, alive for just the moment, before fading to the background -- his eyes fixated on Hiroto in a way he wasn’t able to stop, eyes drying against the warm air and stubbornly, heatedly refusing to give, even with the judge calling the court into session.

“And here we take testimonials from several branch-family Hyuuga members, for the record, in the process to define the misuse of power outlined in the allegations of the plaintiff Hyuuga Hinata. These testimonials will serve to credit or discredit the evidence and accounts already in custody, and will soon be followed by a ruling. Hyuuga Neji, you are the first to speak as first-hand testimony to the main Hyuuga branch family and the alleged misuse of power and authority. Is your testimony of your own freewill?”

“It is.”

The judge nodded. “Very well. On record we have use of a curse seal by means of coercion and punishment, physical punishment, withholding of necessities as punishment, and excessive training beyond what is deemed acceptable for young shinobi. Proceed as you seem fit and address the family member by name, at the guidance of the court advocates, Yui and Shinzo”

_Oh. I’d forgotten some of those._

Looking at the old man, with his heavy wrinkles and lines, an axe hacked away at the meat of a tree -- with his diminished form, and his dry brittle hair, Neji almost thought it _redundant_ that they were here, that it was pointless. The elders were no better off, with partners that were dead, with lost eyesight befitting a holder of the Byakugan, with maybe a few years left on this earth before being put to a grave no one would visit.

_Why is this necessary? Our clan is dying as it is, the main branch dwindling away, why must I --_

“Neji?” Yui said, standing off to the side of his vision. She’d stood up, had walked up to him, and he’d been aware of it, but only in passing.

Neji blinked, breathed, and pulled his eyes from his grandfather. He stared forward, toward one of the empty wooden seats in the front row. The female stenographer sat in the seat beside it, and her hands were still over her typewriter as she awaited something to be said.

He refused to clear his throat, or to succumb to the lead sinking his lungs. 

_There’s a task at hand. Do it._

“My apologies…” 

The air _broke_. He was too loud for it.

_Focus._

His stomach tightened silently.

_Just... focus._

An ocean rolled around in him at depths he didn’t know existed, picking up speed as soon as his words started to come to him. “I speak only on my own behalf, and not to what I’ve seen happen to other members of the branch families, nor will I speak on my father's behalf. I will address only what has happened to myself.”

“I’m looking to hear about you, so that’s perfect.” Yui says, and it sounds like an apology. She’s walking around the room, a paper in hand, while Hinata watches with weary eyes. “I’ll have you start at the first allegation if you wouldn’t mind. You’d once had the Hyuuga curse seal on your forehead, correct?”

His stomach sank, he could feel his food from earlier. “I did. It was broken in April by Lady -- by Hinata.”

It had hurt as much as it did when he was branded. Hinata was close to tears when she had done it, but he’d reassured her that everything was more than okay.

_"I’m getting what I longed for, do not cry for me," he assured her, curled in on himself on Shikamaru's family couch._

“When did you get it?”

Rice, pork, green tea -- he tastes it all at once. “I was three when I received it from the elders, as is Hyuuga custom.”

“And it is rendered at the discretion of the main branch, correct? How often was it used?”

“Yes. When I was a child, it was used often… Through my genin years, it was used almost daily. ”

“Why was it used so often?”

_Every reason under the sun. Because, sometimes, there didn’t need to be a reason._

“It was used for many reasons… mostly it was to fix behavioral issues, or as motivation to not fail in endeavors like school or training. So if I spoke negatively about my uncle or cousins, or got into trouble at the academy, that would be adequate.”

“Even as a child?”

“Especially as a child, as that was when we were taught the clan ways… we’d learned of the social order very early. They wanted it instilled in us, almost from birth. It’s easy to recall the first time, I believe I was four. My uncle had the honor to be the first, as I hadn’t been training hard enough at the time… I was a very disappointing child. it made me ill, and I’d fixed myself quite quickly.”

Neji closed his eyes -- it lasted only a second and he couldn’t afford more than that -- but he remembered in his muscles how it felt to be hunched over in the garden, stomach tumbling out and tears hot on his cheeks.

_It hurt too bad to eat._

He peeled his eyes open again like onions, and wanted to tell Yui and her apologetic looks that it was _okay_. He'd volunteered, he agreed to speak of this.

He wanted to tell Hinata and the silent tears on her own cheeks that it was okay. He's doing this for her, as much as for himself.

“And as a chunin and jonin?”

“It’s fair to say it was used most of my life, up until I was 17. As a chunin I made many mistakes and spoke in a way unfitting of the clan and our image, so after missions or training with my team, I’d have to answer for the poor image I painted of my clan. I’d shredded what little good will my family had for me after the chunin exams, both in what personal clan business I decided to share that day, as well as for losing the way I did."

He paused, because he remembered what home felt like between turbulent missions and the start of the war. The nausea, the training, the aches and the way he hid the evidence of home through bandages and excessive training... "As chunin, I was reminded often how I would have to protect the main family, and if it came to sacrifices, they were willing to make it. If I appeared to have forgotten this, I was reminded."

"Sacrifices?"

"I... was a sacrifice from birth. Whatever it takes to protect the main family, it was my price to pay. Like I said, it was custom to learn this young."

_As is with my father, as is with me._

"And you were also reminded of this... through use of the seal?"

"Indeed. And being jonin did not spare me or lend me preferential treatment, as age never defined the necessity of being reminded of who we are.”

“Don’t you mean who you were?”

It was her form of a life line.

Neji tasted the bile again, like the past’s hands reached out to claim his body, his spirit, there in the courtroom. He looked at her directly, for the first time he notes apologetically, and smiles as he takes the rope. “My mistake.”

Though he felt sick to his core, he couldn’t stave away the satisfaction of seeing his grandfather so helpless.


	2. Chapter 2

[the shinobi noble courts, part ii]

Everything that was said was said for a reason. Naruto was certain that he wanted this to go to the newly created courts, because then, not only would it serve future Hyuuga, it would also prevent other clans from following the same Hyuuga ideology. Shikamaru was forced to agree, since legal precedence was what they were really looking for. It was binding, and it would be valuable for generations to come.

However, it wasn't something that Shikamaru was thrilled about. He didn't say anything, didn't do anything but ask if Neji was okay with it, but Neji understood everything he didn't say, and appreciated it all the same. But the choice was clear, and if Hyuuga name could mean anything, then it could at least stand for _this_...

Knowing that it was for the greater good did not make this part any easier.

“Thank you,” Yui said, bowing. Neji was almost happy to see her return to Hinata’s side, having done a thorough job reminding him of too many things that had happened in his time at the Hyuuga estate. There wasn’t an accusation to be held, not a harsh word or harsh tone, just facts to be displayed – her job to air out the actions of the main family was done, and that now left…

“I’ll call for the defense.”

_What will you defend?_

The judge made a statement about the record, made Shinzo take note of something, and Neji couldn’t keep the animosity from bubbling to the surface. He thought he was over this part, the static cling of hate that made his skin alive with energy – and he knew it was nerves, the way his hate reared its head made sense when it did so for the moments he has to speak on his past, but he wasn't aware how much hate could live in him when nothing was _really_ provoking him...

_They're trying to provoke me..._

The fact that Hiroto, that the Elders, even tried to have a defense was pathetic. But it was a logical court, a rational court – it called for a defense, and entertained a case where the accused had something to say, however cruel and untrue it will be. The elders and other main family members that were on the chopping block would never leave their necks open, would never accept a ruling without trying to defend themselves from it.

Everyone knew it, that the ruling was undeniably set in stone – fate, Neji realized, may not exist except in this moment, and it was the first time he was thankful for the stars and their wills. But the fact that the court had to entertain such idiotic shows of strength was a joke. It was the same as watching a wounded animal in its final death throes, trying to will itself back to life, and it was clear that this was their last attempt to control him, as much as it was to save themselves.

_Like rats or snakes or…_

He couldn’t be blamed for his careful tone slipping, though he'd try to reel it in as much as he could. He knew the moment Shinzo stood, and Hiroto finally looked at him, that he was going to have to be especially careful, practiced caution and stillness.

_Like Hyuuga._

Hiroto looked as spiteful as ever – eyes like his in a disgusting familial familiarity; opal to match opal, and they made Neji cringe with how much they mirrored his. The hate, the way they leveled him in ways he tried to forget...

He’d try to tread carefully, for his own sake. With a stilling breath, he waited for what the white haired advocate had to say; like bait set out to sea, he waited.

His grandfather finally looked away, and Shinzo walked toward the table to Neji's right, addressing the judge and for a second. The weight of their joined stares was lifted and Neji took in another measured breath.

_Focus on this one goal, it will pass._

His palms were damp, and it did not feel like it would pass.

He waited for whatever they had planned. He'd been accustomed to the way the main branch speaks, the things they'd say and mean and imply – the half-truths and full lies and heightened sense of nobility that turned their words into _gold..._

The Judge and Shinzo whispered to themselves, too quiet for Neji to hear despite how close the two were.

The sound of the ambient silence was almost enough to trick Neji into thinking the room was empty. He’d done such a good job at staring at the seat and ignoring what was happening around him. Occasionally, he looked to Yui when he answered, who had hovered around close enough that he didn’t need to scan the room, to look at the audience. He almost believed everything was silent and empty and –

But then he’d heard a sniffle, and he already knew it was Gai, and it was the worst possible timing because Shinzo stood directly in front of him. He blocked his fixation point and ripped him from the red canvas of the seat that he'd readjusted his gaze to sit on, drawing his eyes up his suit and to land harshly on his tired expression.

“Hyuuga Neji,” he addressed him for the first time. “You’ve painted a very vivid portrait of your childhood.”

He still heard Gai – quietly in the corner, but the room was so still that even the sound of rustling clothes was enough to draw attention, let alone muffled sniffles.

Neji centered his eyes on Shinzo, focus like the brunt force of a fist into the pinpoint of a needle. Neji smirked, because his tone was ratty and his voice was too high pitched and scratchy. He obviously knew nothing about him, and little more, he figured, of Hyuuga attitudes – and, he knew it was pissing Shikamaru off as much as himself. The image of calm Shikamaru, angered, on the edge of something like violence, of his own free will, was oddly calming. “I’d say so.”

“It is my job to see that my associate is fairly represented against any sort of slander, and everything you said is going to be addressed. I represent the entire main branch of the Hyuuga family, as well as the deceased, Hyuuga Hiashi. Right now I’ll start with the alleged actions of Hyuuga Hiroto.”

Hiroto, always the quickest to use the seal. Hiroto, who was disgusted with Shikamaru and made sure Neji knew it. Hiroto, who knew how to step without breaking fingers.

“You said he’d used the seal on you when you were younger because he wanted better grades for you at school, and that you perform well as a shinobi so that you would be prepared for the harsh realities of the ninja world. Is this correct?”

_So this is how I end up sending myself to jail._

Neji knew his eyes weren’t easily approached. It was a fact of his life as long as he'd been going to school – they were cold, or mysterious, or all knowing, he’d been told by everyone around him. Some days, it was an asset, and he looked unblinkingly toward Shinzo. His lips took on a sardonic smile, because that’s an odd thing for someone to say so confidently who had neither lived in his house, or been in his wars.

He held onto Shinzo’s gaze as though his entire world depended on it. “The seal was used when I failed to get an A in school tests, and when I trained too little or had bad form.”

He clipped his tone and his words – short, simple, get out.

“So yes.”

_Don’t entertain it._

“It is as I said.”

“Are you sure that these actions were not out of love and aspiration for you to do better?”

Neji laughed – it broke out from his lungs, from his tight throat, from the gate of his sharp teeth because he had to. It actually was funny, hearing the words family and grandfather and love all in one breath, mingling like rancid food.

Oh how little they knew, to think that the estate housed such notions like _time out for bad behavior_ , and _love_ , and _aspiration_ . He remembered as much, and more and more as the questions from the morning repeated in the echo chamber of his mind – each memory, spoken to an audience like a dirty secret, was made of _nothing_ but...

_Disgust._

“Of course you would phrase it like that, wouldn’t you?" He craned his head back, smiling despite himself – he remembered, now, how hours of training turned into house work turned into a snide tone that, inevitably, ended in a seal formed at the hands of adults. Adults, with their own children, with their own families, on the other side of doors he or his father or his cousins would never be able to open. "Perhaps you might try to say it was _love_. That I’d been hungry and aching and in pain out of love, that I lost my father out of love. However, I’ve known love, and Hiroto and Hiashi were emptied of it. Love lived nowhere within them.”

“It may seem harsh, but all children must listen to the guidance of their elders. Our parents and grandparents undeniably know more than we do and want to keep us safe. It’s common to have stories about not liking our parents in our youth, isn’t it? But isn’t it always to keep us from straying?”

And then Shinzo had the gall to laugh, as though immune to the innate funeral silence that made even whispers seem like shouting. “My parents sure did that, and I’m all the better for it – they didn’t want me falling into bad company, or to slack on my schooling, and so I’d get in trouble when I did dumb things. I'd had dinner taken away from me, or been reprimanded, but now as an adult, I see why they did it.”

“Clearly they should have seen your reasoning and arguing skills weren’t up to par, either, otherwise they would have scolded you for attempting to become an advocate.”

No, nothing could make this part any easier, but knowing that this was all that stood between him and never seeing these people again was a nice place to focus his sights.

"It would seem that your family failed to teach you manners," Shinzo sighed, returning his eyes to the papers before him. "Well, can't fix that now, I suppose."

The judge, silent for the majority of the time since Yui started her questioning, cleared his throat.

Shinzo looked up, eyebrows raised. He sighed quietly, shoulders tensing in irritation more than anything. "Right. Anyways... Neji, can you prove that your family ever used the seal mark on you, and that it was used excessively? Is there any validity to these claims ?"

Neji _wanted_ to say a lot of things. He wanted to let himself speak freely, like there wasn't a judge or a room full of friends there to hear him – it's just a lingering feeling, the way he feels like a cornered animal and he just wants to snap.

But he doesn't, his nails just make crescents into his palms.

"The seal is designed for use, and it's design and use within our family is common knowledge. As for proof? I don't know what I can give you. I don't know how to show you scars that don't exist. The seal..."

_It's meant for secrecy._

"It was made not to leave marks."

_It was meant for a family like ours, made of gross secrets and the need to hide._

"There's no way to tell," he continued, eyes in the past, remembering what it was like to be under it's use. It was so common, so interlaced in his life, that it was odd to look back on a time he thought it would never change. "As it was used in private, it was kept in private... the only scars it leaves me are in memory."

The judge sighed. "Shinzo, we've already gone over testimony from the main house. We've established existence and use of the seal, which is not a part of today's proceedings."

Shinzo could see the case he was so unfortunate to take on was hopeless – Neji read it in his posture, his pauses, his sighs. And then he sighed quietly, but persevered in an almost enviable way. "Then I'd like to contest the merit of the high regard your family so clearly had of you. It was not unknown that Neji was the Hyuuga prodigy, was it not?"

He turned himself to face Neji, standing too close, speaking too much like it was a matter of fact that everything that was gossip was somehow also a merit.

He was clearly waiting for something, and Neji nodded. "I was considered... skilled for my age. Prodigy is a strong word I avoid using."

"Yes, but you we–"

"It was my school, it was my teachers, who said such ridiculous things. It was not my family, and they certainly didn't believe such... gossip."

“How about addressing your uncle, Hiashi?”

Neji's lips quirked up again – what did this man think he was saying? Speaking for a dead man, for someone who never hesitated to enact his powers and use his blood-given right over subordinates.

Hiashi may have felt some guilt over Neji, and may have taken to him less harshly after confessing the truth about Hizashi, but that was not enough to mend what was broken. That was not enough to keep him in line where he could, be it through training or other means.

_The man was just as bad as the rest of them._

Neji modulated his tone, thoughts of the man who'd sacrificed himself out of guilt more than anything clouding his vision. His eyes were flat against Shinzo's. “What about him?”

“He’d been favorable to you, as it would seem from your training? He spent hours of his time teaching and training you, and fought with you, as I understand from the reports.”

“I was tolerated, make no mistake. He’d used the seal on me as much as the rest of us, if not more – war meant nothing.”

“More? But weren’t you the _prodigy –"_

_There's that word again._

"–of the family, and they’d taken special care –”

“I was not cared for in any way. I was more outspoken, if that’s what you’re trying to get at – and my school took a liking to my skill level, so I was trained well at the estate. This changed nothing about how I was regarded by the main branch. I'd been trained through meals, through the night, through events – if anything, it – it was punishment."

_Fuck –_

"This is getting tiring, Shinzo," The judge interrupted, and Neji felt indebted to him in that moment. His mask was slipping and he could feel the frayed nerves start to ache, the final way they do before catching fire.

He'd never want to catch fire again...

Neji focused so whole-heartedly on the feeling of his hands, on the warmth of the sun as it cast warm rays across his face from the window to his right – to the feeling of knowing the doors he'd entered this claustrophobic room were almost within reach...

_Calm yourself._

"Didn't you display your family's fighting style at the Chuunin exams? Clearly they trained you well, groomed you to be –"

The judge raised his hand. "It's hearsay to assume attitudes that have yet to be addressed. Move on, this topic has ran it's course."

This advocate, it was clear how hard a job was truly laid out before him. Neji almost felt bad for him.

_Almost._

"Then I'd like to address the actions and behavior of Neji himself."

Neji took in a deep, full breath – the walls of the room leaned in to listen, like they knew how guilty Neji truly was.

Shinzo continued. "I find it odd that we admonish some strong acts while not addressing other, more... _public_ acts of what we can clearly see as violence. Neji, you may have had a curse mark with little evidence as to its actual use, but," and he turned to the judge, "We, unlike the plaintiff, have _actual_ evidence. We have an audience, and public record."

Neji knew it was coming. It was not something he'd be able to outrun, nor was it something that could be pulled from the minds of his peers and teachers. And it was, certainly, not something he'll ever be able to let go, though he wasn't sure if he'd even be able to if given the chance. His heart wouldn't be able to rest, otherwise...

Hinata, she looked so distraught – Neji couldn't blame her, but he can't look at her either, and he knows that he was no better than Hiroto, who could no more face him than Neji could face Hinata, right now.

_I have been violent..._

"If we are discussing acts of violence, then I think we should be fair and address the way you've carried yourself, Neji."

_I have caused pain..._

"That is fair," Neji ceded, because it was true and he wished it wasn't. His heart felt like a heavy brick all of a sudden, and though he did so well, controlled himself so well, it wasn't _enough_ to stave away the heat climbing up his neck. It wrapped, it contracted, threatening to choke if he dared to think he was any better than his family

"Isn't it true that you were a child with anger issues?"

He couldn't lie, he didn't even feel obligated to try, or to justify – so he nodded. " _Yes._ "

"Isn't it true that you took out that anger on the Plantiff, Miss Hinata? Back when you were fledgling shinobi."

_A fledgling, filled with rage, perhaps..._

Neji swallowed – he couldn't help it, and the delay was a loud spectacle of silence, ricocheting around the room and touching the ear of all who bore witness. "It is true."

He'd taken back his feelings for the man in front of him. He didn't feel bad for Shinzo or the case he was so unfortunate to inherit, not one ounce of remorse for the monster that wanted to aid monsters – he was smirking, with a glint in his eye that was _too_ familiar and superior and _familial and,_ "Isn't it also true that, in front of an audience, you tried to kill her? Out of your anger, you attempted to take your cousin's life?"

Neji smiled, enough to mask the way his jaw was locked. Enough to choke away the vibrations that attempted to take root in his voice.

_You're right._

The monster he feared lived in his bones as well, so he nodded. "I did."

"So, shouldn't we also be addressing the violence you'd showcased to your entire class and superiors? Is one with such poor judgement, with an inclination toward violence at such a young age, really in a position to be judging the practices of his clan? Tradition that had been passed down through generations? Would you trust someone like yourself, Neji? Are _you_ any better than –"

"Shinzo, for the last –"

The judge had no room to speak, no space to place his objection to the man now standing directly – dangerously _closely_ – in front of Neji.

Neji raised his hand to the judge – he probably shouldn't have done that, he thinks, but it's so in passing, so hidden beneath tunnel vision that had only one course of action in mind, and when he spoke it was with a clarity his body did not reflect.

"You're right, Shinzo." He begged his mouth to _shut –_ wasn't this a court that was trying to bring about justice for his family? Selfishly, he thought only of himself, but what about his cousins? What about his _father_? What about the laws that would be written around this case, and prevent seals of any sort to be used for slavery ever again? But no, in his bones he felt the stupid irony of wanting something so bad but feeling too guilty to claim it – he spoke and he wished he didn't. "I may not be any better than the clan I was born into, not in the way I've carried myself, and maybe not even in my intentions now. I've caused damage as great and as horrible, and I will never be able to balance the scales."

His breath was shaky now, but his words were confident. They lived in the back of his mind for so long, they came out like doves released from wedding cages, so freely and unencumbered.

_Here is your freedom_.

"I cannot right my wrongs in a way that would make them acceptable. I cannot apologize enough to remove or nullify the memories Hinata has of that day, and in no way can I find a reason that I could be forgiven. A fool might try to ask, but that is not me."

_Here are your wings._

The room was very quiet, but it was not awkward – it was tense, laden with the implications of such words and the curiosity of why he'd even speak them.

"Next question," Neji finally said to break the air, to stir the waters that had grown so still around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i reworked this a few times so i hope it read well! lets go for part threeee! 
> 
> honestly this mini-fic has been a good insight for HIFR, and has been helping to tie together some scenes and history that i'd been needing, so that next chapter is half way done and i can't wait to share once it's finished!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to open my / mouth and tell them something, anything— / speak as if I have any authority upon / myself.”
> 
> — Mahtem Shiferraw, Fuschia; “In the Lion’s Den”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy.
> 
> descriptions of panic and anxiety in medium/strong detail.

[the shinobi noble courts, act iii]

As soon as the defense ended, and Shinzo stepped away, Neji was up and gone. He did his part, and tore open some wounds, and finally, it ended, and he was free to leave. For whatever it was worth, he'd done what he could, and now there was nothing more to attend to. Now was about reeling himself in, and keeping his dignity, whatever was left of it.

He walked slowly, only to keep himself from feeling as though he was fleeing.

Oh, but he was, and he knew it as much as he'd never say it. Every moment of attention that his friend's so painfully paid him, listening to confessions he'd only admitted to in passing, or not at all, was too much. He couldn't acknowledge it, couldn't think of the thoughts in their heads and heart. He couldn't bring himself to attempt, and so he didn't, instead focusing his sights on _leaving_.

Eyes first on the table, then the judge, then the door –

The door shut softly behind him, and he could _breathe_.

_It's over –_

On this warm and stifling summer day, everywhere was the same breed of too-hot, but the hallway was, still, so much _lighter._ Hot like august, the hall wasn't the stew that the little office's air had turned into, impossible to not choke on...

Many thoughts took refuge in his mind, but one that was so shockingly clear was that he had not anticipated _that._ He wasn’t prepared – not to the fullest, maybe not at all, if the tremor in his fingers or the way the air felt sour meant anything.

He took a shuddering breath in – filled his lungs to the fullest, relishing in the expanse of space within him that no longer felt like closing walls.

He’d done what he said he would, what he promised Hinata and, quietly to the heavens, his Father that he would do. He answered everything everyone asked of him, did what they wanted, and now…

_It’s done_.

He knew from the initial meeting with the judge and Naruto that he could stay for the rest of his family and their testimony, that he could return to the court and slink into the back like a spectator. It was not necessary, but available, if he chose.

Neji thought nothing of that conversation, and carried himself through the halls of the upper floors of the hokage’s office until they were more familiar, more traveled – paths known well to him as ANBU, as an on-duty shinobi. When he breezed past Naruto’s personal office, his lungs released the cold air pent up inside him and –

Was he really holding his breath? He hadn’t known, could have sworn he was _breathing_...

_You’ve finished your business with them._

He was dizzy now, but he was outside, yet the air was just as thin, just as papery, and he didn't know _why._ As fast as his feet could carry him without looking like he was distressed, he was outside, rounding the back of the building to the dry land between the offices and the security wall where the smokers took their breaks. 

Only then, in the shadow of the building that he alone inhabited, did he feel his heart return to normal, and his nerves calm their electric buzzing.

But his knees – he’d never felt them so weak – he’d faced so much in his life that didn’t shake him like this, and his hands – he held them out in front of himself and couldn’t keep them _still_ . They moved and he tried to clench around the air, thankful that something took mercy on him and allowed him to be alone, and they wouldn’t –

He leaned over, forearm coming up against the concrete mountain of a wall to his left, his whole body now alight with fresh nerves that didn’t care if he stood or knelt.

_Why now?_

He’d hoped it would disappear once he left, but more and more, it was just mounting –

It had gone well enough, right?

It was enough, _right?_

His testimony was formality, everyone knew it was never really _need,_ he’d just given it as a _favor_ – Hinata had so much evidence, had so much to say, and the courts weren’t even a necessary step when she, as head of the family, could have decided on her own what to do; yes, what he said must have been enough.

He swallowed thickly, trying to bring himself back – trying to claim whatever he’d felt before this, to become one with it again. It wasn’t possible, he was –

Was he breathing?

He inhaled sharply, and he was sure he was – his chest was _moving,_ he just couldn’t _feel_ it –

He was still so dizzy, and he felt closer to collapsing than he ever had, as though, suddenly, _now_ it was a possibility–

_Is it?_

He thinks it might, truly, be a possibility.

He had no idea how long he was out there. He didn’t know if the trial had taken a break to assess, a break for the jury in the crowd, if it had been minutes or hours – he didn’t know how long he stood there, against the wall, trying to hold himself together like he never had before. Like a genjutsu that went awry, seconds dragged out, elongated and misshaped, antagonizing until nothing felt certain.

_Why? How?_

And, even worse, was how taken aback he was, how he didn’t know Shikamaru was around the corner, and that he was already at his side. Only then, with Shikamaru's chakra invading the space around him, and the sound of his footsteps finally reaching his ears, did he realize that he had surroundings at all.

Neji scoffed, at himself and the ridiculousness more than anything.

_What a poor excuse for a shinobi_ _you are._

“Hey, hey,” Shikamaru said softly – a calming timbre that reached down to Neji’s core. His hands came up to his back, one pushing away his neatly combed hair so that he could rub circles into his shoulder, the other reaching for that hand not bracing against the wall.

He held it, shakiness and claminess and all, and Neji ducked his head.

“Neji,” he whispered into his ear, trying to catch his eyes, trying his hardest to pull him _back_ from wherever he found himself.

Neji wouldn’t let him. “I can’t –”

“Hey, you can – it’s just me,” he said into his ear, and it was so mortifying, trembling like a child, like he wasn’t an adult but instead a dumb kid with high expectations that had yet to be destroyed. 

“Here, come on, lean on me,” Shikamaru whispered – thinly veiled was a similar distress, under the calm veneer he’d put on just for Neji.

Neji’s eyes _buzzed_ , and he shook his head, “– no, no –”

Softly, his lips against the shell of his ear, “It’s okay…”

_It’s not_.

But Shikamaru took one of his hands and tugged, just enough – and it was so much better than the hot concrete through his shirt, better than the way he was shaking with nothing to keep him from falling, and he let Shikamaru do what he wanted.

And Shikamaru knew was right, because his hands were like magnets the way they circled around his torso and locked behind him. And he was always right, with how home was the way Shikamaru answered his embrace with one that was so much stronger and sturdier, one that was _solid_.

He would have felt ashamed hiding his face into the warmth of Shikamaru’s shoulder, his neck – it was not a comfort he often found himself appeasing in anyway, and when he did, it was always a tragedy –

_This is not a tragedy._

It doesn’t make sense that it feels like one, when it was anything but.

He didn’t want to say it but it just started coming – like it did on trial, when he couldn’t keep the words from escaping. “Shikamaru – they’re _right_.”

Shikamaru tilted his head into Neji, into the curtain of hair that filled the space between them. “What are they right about?” He said softly, his words always and only for Neji. He spared one hand from their place on his back, resting it, instead, on the nape of his neck, warm even through hair and tremor.

“About me – I’ve done what they’ve done, I’ve –”

“No, no –”

“They’re _right_ about me, they were correct to say it,” Neji tried to insist, tried to make him understand, but –

Shikamaru pulled himself away, bodies still close, hand still on neck, forcing their eyes to lock. “Hey – _stop_ it, Neji,” 

Shikamaru was Neji’s calm, always – even now, voice cutting through his own objections, a sieve to the doubt ingrained in him . His brown eyes, his soft gaze, the careful, intentional way he held on to him, keeping him falling.

"Bring it back a bit for me – tell me more, okay?"

Neji’s breathing was in shudders, he couldn’t make it _stop_.

“I’m them,” he, eventually, said.

Shikamaru’s eyebrows took a saddened shape, eyes deepening with an emotion that made Neji’s knees weak for another reason. He shook his head. “So why’d you do this? Why’d you decide to be here?”

There’s not a lot of thoughts in Neji’s head that he can grasp onto – they’re like puffs of smoke, but he stills tries to catch them. “I…”

Shikamaru smiles, and now both hands are paying close attention to Neji – his right still at the curve of his neck, soft but firm, the other parting ways for his hair so that he could hold his jaw, anchor him with sweet strokes to the cheek. “Why’d you testify?”

Neji stares intently at first, even though he knows his answer at heart. “To stop them. To keep this–” a deep breath, "– from repeating.”

“Yeah, I know, cause I know that would tear you up. If someone else had to get hurt like you. Right?”

That, at least, was true. He nodded again, feeling the strength of Shikamaru’s hands, the way each fingertip was warm and comfortable like how a hot spring is in winter, how his palms were soft and only ever held him out of love.

“I don’t know about you, Neji, but,” and he kissed his left cheek, moved his finger aside so his lips could brush against the height of his cheek bone. Neji closed his eyes to the gesture, only opening them the second later that he pulled back. “But that doesn’t remind me of your uncle, and it sure as hell doesn’t remind me of your grandfather.”

Neji’s breathing was high again, but the emotions were all twisted – was it sadness or pain or hurt or nostalgia or bitterness?

_Is it love?_

"It just reminds me of you."

He hated crying but here he was, standing where the smokers do, shaking like an autumn leaf, trying to keep this from spilling over.

“That's the way I see it, at least,” Shikamaru added, once it was clear Neji wasn’t sure what to say.

He didn’t know if he was right, but he trusted Shikamaru to know that he probably wasn’t completely wrong.

The seconds, or minutes, or hours, passed, and everything was starting to clear up. Bit by bit, his spirit came back to his body, ready to fill the vacancies that left him with ripped seams.

His body was weak, coming down from the high perch of tension he’d been sitting on. Like sludge in his bloodstream, it weakened and dragged and ached. But he understood that suddenly falling down from so high up, into the awkward calm he now found himself in, was an exhaustion far better than what he’d felt just a few moments ago. 

And it left him with new thoughts, ones that finally caught up to him in the wake of escape.

_Oh…_

He shifted his eyes downward, bringing up his right hand to hold on to Shikamaru’s wrist. Shikamaru didn’t budge, didn’t move – just kept his gentle hold on Neji, like he’d done thousands of times before.

“I’m sorry you heard… that.”

He’d told Shikamaru so little of what his house was truly like, hoping that some miracle would grant Shikamaru obliviousness to all the way he was weak and incapable of helping himself. Shikamaru knew, of course. He was smart and didn’t need Neji to fill in the gaps, though he did, here and there. He told him bits and pieces – like that the seal had been used, or that he was tired from training, or, sometimes, that he wished not to talk about it. Shikamaru would bring him out to the fields to split meals when it got too bad, back when they were much younger and didn’t have solutions for problems so big and daunting...

Shikamaru rested his forehead against Neji’s. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

_That’s not true._

“I’m sorry you had to hear…”

_You had to see me like this._

“Neji…”

_You had to find me like_ this.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too – mostly because I couldn't do anything to help... and partially because I couldn’t tarnish my reputation and kick around that guy back there. _Shinzo_ , the one that looked like a rat.”

Neji scoffed, surprised by how easily he smiled at the faint traces of amusement entering his thoughts, his body. His instincts were right after all, and the image was a sound one in his mind. “I had a strong feeling about that.”

“Man, his _voice_ , it was so painful to listen to.”

Neji had to agree, and nodded.

“Feels like his first day on the job, too. Did you hear how many times Judge Tanaka had to redirect him? He’s a damn numbskull – the guy really shouldn’t have been a lawyer, since he’s just making them all look bad.”

Neji smiled, even with the lingering exhaustion in his system, even knowing he didn’t fully trust himself enough to vindicate himself – but it was easy enough, easy like breathing, when Shikamaru was there to recenter what was so skewed.

Neji’s hands, caught in the fabric of the front of Shikamaru’s dark shirt, came up his sides. He pulled him in, this time far more stable and certain, and rested his head on his shoulder again.

“This entire thing is a fucking drag, but it’s almost over,” Shikamaru said into his neck, squeezing. “You did good.”

Neji squeezed harder. One day, hopefully, he’ll believe that.

~

The court continued it’s relentless, thorough investigation, having taken more members to the stand in hopes of wringing out deeper, darker truths from their memories. Hiroto himself was called up there too, questioned in the same fashion that Neji almost wished he got to see.

That, at least, was the court agenda. It must have been what they must have been doing while Neji was absent, and he couldn't bring himself to care that he was.

Instead of returning, Neji and Shikamaru sat outside, with Shikamaru having the intuition to bring them both food, like he knew what to expect and had planned for it. Neji didn’t have such foresight, just grateful that one of them had it at all.

Kakashi had been the one to tell them the trial was over, finding them outside and calling down from the roof. He didn’t linger.

The discussion for the jury to come to a conclusion took only an hour, and though it was a swift decision, Neji had waited it out in high strung anticipation. After receiving notice from Kakashi yet again, having found them as they waited in one of the vacant break rooms, they were all gathered back into the same courtroom to hear the verdict.

The sun that had once been so bright and golden was in it’s dying light, the only indicator that time had passed normally and that the day was drawing to an end. Lights were turned on, glowing from the edges of the room.

How it was possible for this to be a quick process, yet still agonizingly slow, Neji didn’t know – he just knew that the two were the same, and when he was back in the court, the two turned into a purgatory that might not end.

_It must be the right decision._

Neji sat in the rows of seats this time, and insisted on being in the closest row possible. If his body rejected the entire proceeding events, then he should get a good view of whatever was going to happen. Good, bad, he’d witness it all and await the judgement.

_They must understand…_

There were other Hyuuga in the room with him, too – scattered, sitting alone or with a friend. They all ignored each other, their pain a shared feeling that demanded solitude and left no room for rumination. Maybe later, but not today.

No one spoke to him, or Shikamaru, and it was for the best. The shuffling, the waiting, the quiet talks between everyone as they took their seat and waited till everyone was there, was enough talk to fill the space.

Shikamaru was tense beside him, though Neji was certain he himself looked just as tense, just as anxious.

He tried to reclaim calmness, but it was pointless. A fear had already gripped him.

The twin fear in his heart was not about himself, or the deep seated guilt Shikamaru warned against – but it was eerily similar. 

It was the same feeling, revived after years of hiding, that grew from his match with Naruto – from the heaviness of that crowd of eyes on him, the eyes of the _hokage_ , as they heard his self-righteous speech, as they listened to his and his father’s story. 

No, he wasn’t under any impression that he was, somehow, special. His story had happened to generations of Hyuuga before him, to his cousins and uncles and aunts. He was just another member among those masses, he just happened to be the loudest of them all.

But those crowds had been there, and they _heard_ . They understood, had bemoaned it in the moment, even, but still _nothing_ came of it. And yes, afterward, Gai had hugged him and cried for him and gave him a couch to sleep on. His team gave him understanding and affection, and Shikamaru gave him his time, but... 

Konoha did nothing.

And so that fear remained, ingrained in his bones and newly awoken like it was made for a moment just like this.

_They’re not going to do anything_.

He knows it’s not true. It _couldn’t_ be true, not with a court under the Hokage, who sat in this very room and witnessed it all...

It felt like it did so many years ago, how he and his last hope was crushed so quickly after Konoha returned to normal. Like nothing had been said, life moved on, and the Hyuuga were allowed to go about their ways as though his voice was just another caught in the wind. A single voice, in a crowded hall, heard for a only second before being carried away into the noisy percussion of voices louder and sterner than his own.

_No..._

It wasn’t possible the court was going to come to that same understanding, but he also knew that he’d been so sure _once_ upon a time…

The judge walked in before Neji could derail his own train of thought, and the jury, once a part of the crowd, followed in line. Behind them came Hinata and Yui, then Hiroto and Shinzo. The stenographer was at the tail of the line, and she returned to her front row seat, ready to write down government history.

Shikamaru’s presence was a strong one, and Neji could feel his sharp edges become razors as they made their quiet entrance. It was a comfort, being listened to, being trusted enough for someone to be mad on his behalf, and Neji reached his hand out to grab his knee. In thanks for listening and trusting him, he squeezed.

Shikamaru laid his hand atop Neji, and the Judge – Tanaka – sat down.

Shinzo and Yui took their seat back at their tables alongside Hiroto and Hinata, and at the wall beside the judge, the six jury members stood, waiting to be called on.

Tanaka was a burly man, with long hair pulled into a neat bun. He cleared his throat, looking at the evidence and quickly scanning the spectators, and the victims.

He called the court back into session.

“As the court reaches the final session, we will be laying this case to rest. The jury was swift with their discussion and went over the evidence and testimony thoroughly. They now have come to a verdict.” He gestured toward the line of people behind him and to his left. “This, the first case under the noble court, has left all of us with heavy thoughts. I won’t try to address that in a way to change it, either – we should feel heavy, because the discussions held here today should not be lightly taken. With that, Sato, I’ll have you come up and read your group’s decision.”

_Please_.

The girl with short black hair from the far end of the line came up and bowed, brown parchment in hand. “Yes, your honor.”

She stood behind the desk Neji testified from, looking down to the paper she unfolded. “After hearing the testimony, and taking into account the evidence shown, we have discussed and come to a conclusion –”

Maybe Neji imagined the pause, but he didn’t know for certain.

“ – We find the defendant members of the main family of the Hyuuga guilty.”

Neji’s breath slammed back into him – an opened mouth sigh, like an explosion but so much softer, came from his lips. He couldn’t stop the way his shoulders rolled forward, couldn’t stop the way his hands resting on his knees turned into a vice.

Shikamaru’s hand came quickly to his lower back, a reminder of everything he'd done in support of him.

Neji didn’t even hear the judge ask the jury questions, or thank them, or dismiss them – none of it registered, not in a way that stuck. No, it was all there, things were being said and he _should_ care, just couldn’t bring himself to _–_

_They believed._

The room was lost around him for just a moment, and would have been completely lost if it weren’t for the anchor of Shikamaru’s hand, still and confident on him.

_They believed?_

Maybe instinct was what brought him back to his senses, when he heard the judge speaking again.

“In compliance with the verdict of guilt, under the noble court as appointed by the Hokage, I will now read the sentencing. This court is free from cruel and unusual punishment. All sentencing is based on the severity of the crime committed, as well as taking into account psychological consequences of the victims.”

Whatever relief was supposed to feel like, Neji didn’t think it was going to feel like _this_ – the cold detachment permeating out through his muscles, his nerves.

“Each living member of the accused, Hyuuga Hiroto in this court, and the members awaiting verdict at the Hyuuga estate, will finish 90 years each in the Konoha Civil Confinement Facility. There will be hearings set five years apart to determine status of remorse, as will be heard and determined by a judge and full jury, with the possibility of shortening the sentence. This sentencing goes into effect immediately.”

Neji heard every word – they’d fallen like gavels on the silent room, and yet were distant like the stars, like a bright light would be enough to erase them from existence.

But, no, it was real – the words stayed in the air, incapable of being redacted. And the deep current of animosity that had cut Hiroto’s face deep into wrinkles and scowl was real, because he heard the same thing Neji did. He heard his fate, and had to accept that it was happening.

Whether or not he wanted, it was happening.

The stinging smile brought to Hinata’s lips, _that_ was real _._

The way the tension in the room snapped like old wire was _real_ , and he could feel the energy around him lighten – heavy all the same, yet light enough that it felt like the mortician's silence in the people around them had been thawed away.

The small crowd around them, at some point, cleared out of the room, standing and realigning and, then, eventually taking their leave – leaving Neji to wonder how shock had immobilized him far more than the anger of the testimony ever could.

Naruto waved goodbye somewhere in there, concern deep in his eyes, mirroring that of Sasuke’s. Gai rolled by, too --

“You did good, my boy” he said softly, voice dry despite his puffy eyes, accepting the small nod of thanks Neji gave him and knowing better than to stop and chat. Kakashi spared him a smile, eyes becoming guarded crescents before departing, pushing Gai’s chair forward.

The room felt much bigger as they now sat in it’s vacant maw-- seated side by side in a mission-meeting room with the sun low on the horizon, the lights ensconced at the farthest walls doing little to make up for it.

After just hours of being strung out, bare for everyone, his privacy and humility ripped to shreds– 

Neji was finally _alone_.

Alone, with the knowledge that this was it. This was all that there was going to be of the people he was forced to call family, the end of the legacy he, now, has to reshape.

Shikamaru didn’t wait long for the room to empty out before he pulled Neji in. 

_How did this happen?_

Neji slowly raised his hands to the arm around him, waiting for something to go wrong.

But things weren’t going wrong, and Shikamaru was laughing. Not loudly, not because anything was particularly funny – maybe it was with relief, strong and potent just like Neji’s, that he laughed.

“It’s done,” he said, his chin resting on Neji’s shoulder.

Neji tried to believed it, because Shikamaru did and if anyone could be trusted, it was him –

“I – I don’t believe it.”

“Hasn’t sunk in yet, huh?”

Neji shook his head.

He felt dumb for thinking, or doubting –

– Shikamaru hummed into his neck, his shoulder, warmth seeping into the fibers of his clothes like maybe all his senses had disappeared, only to return now –

“Don’t worry, it will,” Shikamaru said, muffled by cotton.

_It’s real_.

Neji’s head sunk low into the arm that braced across his chest, sensations returning, the shock slowly giving away to hope.

_They believed me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story legit made me hurt lol
> 
> side note, but i happened upon the quote for this chapter and.... like it's not on theme but i couldn't not include it once i read it. anyway, thank you so much for reading! i appreciate you endlessly <3 continue to Hands in Full Revolt to see how well Neji's actually doing!
> 
> thanks for reading <3 find me on tumblr as [fizzypunk](https://fizzypunk.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3


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